


Two Cracked Ribs and a Crack at a Friendship

by bluemandycat



Category: Archvillain Series - Barry Lyga
Genre: Broken Bones, Fluff, Hospitals, In Comparison to SINT This Is Kinda Dumb But I'm Posting It Anyways, Waiting Rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemandycat/pseuds/bluemandycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of kinda-arguments as a blonde superhero and a supervillain with two cracked ribs wait in the hospital waiting room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Cracked Ribs and a Crack at a Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I'm still pretty buzzed bc of SINT, but I'm publishing this anyways. The world needs some fluff after the angst that is SINT.

            Kyle was just considering if he was desperate enough to read the celebrity gossip magazines on the waiting table when the blonde superhero strode into the hospital. Mike was headed straight for him, and Kyle vaguely wondered how much Mike actually liked him, if he was able to pick him out from a (admittedly small) crowd of other sick people. Then again, the supervillain costume made him stick out like a sore thumb, so that might have had something to do with it.

 

            “Blue Freak!” he hissed, not wanting to call attention to the fact that they were socializing without fighting. Unfortunately for him, Kyle didn’t care.

 

            “You know, you’ve known me for so long that I’d think that you could at least call me by the right supervillain name,” Kyle said, in a normal tone of voice.

 

            “I’ll call you whatever I want! Why the hell did you call me here?” Mike retorted.

 

            “Wow. Mighty Mike using a swear word. I never thought I’d see the day.”

 

            “I’m going to do much more than swear if you don’t tell me why you texted me. I’m going to leave! Also, how did you get my number?”

 

            “I got your number from Kyle Camden, who got it from Mairi Mactaggert.”

 

            “How do you know Kyle Camden?”

 

            “Does that really matter? I’m going to answer that for you. No, it does not.”

 

            “I’m leaving,” Mike said.

 

            “Okay, I’ll give you the short version,” Kyle said. “The Mad Mask cracked two of my evil ribs and it’s hard to make evil painkillers when you’re in pain, but normal painkillers don’t work on me anymore, so I need the stuff that you get for your injuries. You know, since we have the same body type?”

 

            Mike snorted. “We definitely do not have the same body type. I’m huge and buff, and you’re kinda tiny.”

 

            “If I wasn’t injured, I’d beat you up. Anyways, that’s not what I mean and you know it. The point is, I need morally dubious healthcare, so I can get back to tip-top evil shape.”

 

            “I got a whole lot of ‘evil’ from that speech, and I’ll be honest, I don’t really want to help you. Helping my archvillain heal is not exactly beneficial to my mission of protecting people. Give me one good reason to help you out,” Mike said, folding his arms.

 

            “It’s the heroic thing to do?” Kyle tried. Mike looked unimpressed. “Superpowered people should look out for other superpowered people?” Mike turned and started walking away. Kyle sighed. “Please, Mike?”

 

            Mike’s shoulders slumped, and he turned around. “Fine. But only because I’ve never heard you beg before.”

 

            Kyle had to smile a little at that. “I bet you’d like to hear me beg more often, huh?”

 

            “Actually, I would,” said Mike, either not getting the connotation or absolutely getting the connotation. The gleam in his eye meant it could go either way, really.

 

            “Yeah, yeah,” Kyle said, waving his hands. “Less talk, more superpowered painkillers.”

 

            Mike walked up to the desk and talked with the lady behind it, occasionally pointing back at Kyle or making some hand motion. After a couple of minutes, Mike nodded and walked back over.

 

            “You are _so_ lucky that there aren’t that many people here now. That woman over there says that they have my painkillers here, but there’ll be a thirty-minute wait.”

 

            “Thirty minutes? Then we’d better get comfortable.” Kyle plopped onto the couch.

 

            “What?” Mike exclaimed. “I am not staying. I did far more than I had to, and I’m going home.” He turned to leave. Kyle grabbed his cape.

 

            “If you think I’m letting you abandon me to doctors and nurses who hate my guts and have access to things that could potentially kill me, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

 

            “They won’t kill you,” Mike said, but it looked like he saw the logic.

 

            “Correction. They won’t kill me if you’re there. Sit down.”

 

            Mike sat down next to Kyle on the couch. “Uh, by the way, what are you wearing?”

 

            Kyle grinned and pulled his scarf over his mouth. “I had to throw something on before I left, and my old costume is a mess right now, so I’m trying something new. What do you think?”

 

            “You’re a disaster. Are those fingerless gloves? And why do you always insist on wearing a hood?”

 

            “I’m wearing a hoodie with my costume because it makes me look cool and keeps me warm. And at least it’s all blue. I have an aesthetic to uphold.”

 

            “I’m sorry, ‘aesthetic?’ You sound like the Mad Mask. And there’s purple on your gloves, FYI.”

 

            “They’re blue and purple striped. They go with the look. Leave me alone.”

 

            “Ah, yes. ‘The look.’ The look that involves goggles that make you look like a bug. That look?”

 

            “My goggles are extremely cool and you’re just very jealous. Your mask is stupid, so you can’t talk.”

 

            “Speaking of masks, what’s with that mask-hood combo you always insist on wearing? I swear every costume you’ve had has had that combo. I’m scared for your fashion sense. If it can even be called fashion sense.”

 

            “Says the boy who has worn the exact same costume since we were twelve. With only the addition of a dumb domino mask when we were thirteen. A domino mask can’t protect your identity, Mike,” Kyle said.

 

            “It’s not for protecting my identity! It’s for the…” Mike trailed off.

 

            “For the aesthetic?” Kyle teased.

 

            “Shut up. You didn’t answer my question. Why the hood?”

 

            “So my hair doesn’t get wet in the rain. You heroes always get wet in the rain and it makes you look pathetic.”

 

            “That’s on purpose. It’s for dramatic effect if I’m sad.”

 

            “Yeah, that’s my point. Rain makes villains stronger and heroes weaker, purely because of the hood. Step up your game.”

 

            “So you admit you’re a villain, then? You’ve finally gotten over that complex you have where you think you’re a good person even though you really aren’t?” said Mike.

 

            “I’ve accepted that everyone’s going to view me as a villain. Make no mistake; I’m still the good guy. You’re my archvillain,” Kyle said, pulling his legs up to his chest on the couch.

 

            “What?” Mike exclaimed. “No, you’re _my_ archvillain. If I’m the hero, and you oppose me, then you must be my archvillain. That’s how that works.”

 

            “So you admit that I’m the good one and you’re the evil one? That makes me the hero, so you’re mine.” Mike shot him a look, probably due to the phrasing. “My archvillain, that is.”

 

            “I said no such thing. You’re evil and I thought you liked being evil.”

 

            “I do like being perceived as evil. It makes me the cooler one in this rivalry. But I think I’m in the right. About everything, really. And—”

 

            “You see!” Mike interjected. “That’s exactly what an evil person would say. I’m good, you’re my archvillain.” Mike folded his arms and they didn’t talk for a full minute and a half. Finally, Kyle spoke up.

 

            “Agree to disagree?” ventured Kyle. He was already sick of arguing, which sounded ironic considering their professional relationship, but the ribs were really starting to ache.

 

            Mike scoffed. “Agree to disagree for the past four years,” he said, but he uncrossed his arms and looked over at Kyle. “So…how did the Mad Mask crack your ribs, anyways?”

 

            Kyle groaned. “Bear hug from behind in the middle of a fight.”

 

            “In a nice, loving way or as a fight move?” asked Mike.

 

            “Nice, loving bear hugs aren’t from behind, and don’t usually crack ribs.” Kyle paused, unsure of how much to say. He settled for, “Anyways, after he realized what he did, he pretty much freaked out and bolted. Could have been his chance to kill me. Kinda glad he didn’t.”

 

            “Kinda?” exclaimed Mike.

 

            “Shh,” Kyle hushed, silently willing him to drop the topic. “I ignored it for a few hours, and then the pain got bad and a friend suggested that maybe going to the doctor’s was a good idea. And that’s why I’m here!” he said in a bright tone of voice, gesturing to the hospital around him.

 

            “Wow. Okay. So, does this mean you’re taking a break from supervillainy for a while?” Mike said, leaning back onto his hands.

 

            “Ehh, something like that. Just enough time to heal. Then it’s back to evil!”

 

            “Ugh, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” Mike said.

 

            “Why? I thought you liked fighting me.”

 

            “I just feel that you have so much potential that it’s a shame to be—”

 

            “The Blue Freak? Could you please follow me?” said a nurse, cutting Mike off. Lucky break! Kyle shot Mike a sideways smile.

 

            “Looks like you and me have a date with some painkillers.”

 

            “Am I even allowed to come with you?” Mike protested.

 

            “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Supervillain, remember?”

           

            “Ugh,” Mike groaned. He clearly wanted to leave. Nevertheless, he followed them into the hospital.

 

            It took about twenty-five minutes for the nurse to give him painkillers, a doctor to give him a once-over and declare him fine and give him a prescription, and him to be the victim of many, many distrustful looks on the part of the hospital staff. Luckily, with Mike there, they didn’t dare do anything to harm or offend him. Kyle knew he had made the right choice (and annoying Mike by making him stay was a nice perk).

 

            Once Kyle was heavily medicated and armed with a prescription for specially-designed painkillers, Mike walked him outside, keeping a firm hand around his shoulders so he wouldn’t “pass out from all the drugs they pumped into you,” as Mike put it. Kyle appreciated the gesture.

 

            They stopped outside the bike rack. “I guess this is goodbye,” said Mike. “I’d say that I had fun, but in all honesty being stuck watching you get an IV was not how I wanted to spend my Saturday.”

 

            Kyle scoffed. “Yeah, I enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed mine.” They both lifted off a couple inches into the air at the same time. “Thanks, though,” Kyle said, averting his eyes.

 

            “Yeah, well, no problem. You think you’ll bump into something on the way home, what with being hopped up on painkillers and whatnot?”

 

            “I’m going to refrain from doing so, just to deny you the pleasure.” Kyle stuck his tongue out at Mike. “See you around, Superkid.”

 

            Mike punched him on the shoulder, but it was more of a light tap, if anything. “Anytime, Prankster.”

**Author's Note:**

> As, always, kudos/comments appreciated. Or come into my inbox over on @archvillain-fandom and yell at me about Stories I Never Told. Either works.


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